


i miss (when you and i had scary dreams)

by someonelsesheart



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Redemption, mentions of torture, psychological abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 13:22:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13342122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someonelsesheart/pseuds/someonelsesheart
Summary: “You are going to kill Angela Ziegler.”“Yes,” says Widow. “Of course.”





	i miss (when you and i had scary dreams)

**Author's Note:**

> see end notes for warnings.

“You killed her.” 

Widow doesn’t say anything.

“You killed her,” repeats the woman, and it’s not really a question, but not quite a statement either.

“I had to,” says Widow.

“Why?”

“It was what I was meant to do."

*

Some nights, Widow dreams of home in winter.

The icy reaches of the French cold wrapping around her skin. The water surrounding the chateau, hitting the rocks hard. The soft clouds of snow gathering and beginning to fall. The silence of nobody else for miles.

Other nights, she dreams of being ripped apart, of having her skin tore back and spiders crawling out – of death, of rebirth, of the feeling in your stomach when you’ve made a terrible mistake.

*

“I want you to kill Angela Ziegler,” says the woman who looks like her. “Make sure it’s done.”

It was only a matter of time. Widow shrugs and says, “I suppose.”

“You suppose?” The woman scowls. “Who, exactly, is in charge here?”

Widow looks at her. Every part of her screams to run. Her body wants to rip itself apart. Her mind tells her one thing and then another. This is Widow’s life, the curse she deals with. A mind that isn’t quite her own. A bloodthirst that seems to run in the family.

“You,” Widow spits, finally, the word burning on her tongue.

Adaline smiles. “That’s what I thought, Amélie.”

“That isn’t my name.”

“It will always be your name,” says her sister. “You will wear it, like a curse. The name of a woman you can never be. A name somebody so defiled and dirty like you could never have.”

“You made me this way,” Widow says.

“I know,” says Adaline, and she laughs, the noise smashing through the air like broken glass.

*

Their mother had five daughters, by three men. Amélie, Adaline, Amelia, Anna and Alena.

Whether she thought it was funny or not, Amélie might never have known. But her first three daughters all died before they turned twenty-two. Some said the three were cursed, because of their mother’s negligence, but Amélie knew that it was she and Adaline that were cursed.

Both by the same angry, abusive man, destined to a life of pain.

Adaline always called Amélie dramatic.

When Amélie became Widowmaker and Widowmaker killed her husband, she wasn’t so sure anymore.

*

It had started innocently enough.

Widow had worked for Talon for a year before she even met Adaline again.

She says met because it was kind of like that. Widow was a new person. She was a killer, and she felt little remorse or connection towards her old life. But then – time passed, and there was something inside her, something that couldn’t bear to lose Adaline, the last part of her old life she had left.

It was an awful, destroyed, bloody part, but it was a part nonetheless.

Adaline wasn’t the head of Talon, but she did everything for the head of Talon. She was the second-in-command, the one who did the dirty work. Not the _real_ dirty work, though; that was Widow’s job.

“I missed you, darling sister,” Adaline had said that day, and there had been a terrible feeling that sunk into Widow’s bones, cold fingers wrapping around her dead heart and squeezing every inch of life out of it.

Widow said, “I missed you too,” and lets the lie slip.

*

She scopes the healer out for weeks. Follows Mercy on missions, to coffee shops, to training missions. Always in background. Always in disguise.

She never takes the shot.

Opportunities pass, over and over again. It’s not like Mercy's particularly paranoid about her surroundings. Widow wonders whether it’s that she doesn’t think anybody wants to kill her or if she just doesn’t care if she does die. The thought plagues her. It keeps her up at night.

Widow watches Mercy laugh with her friends, heal them, help them. Happiness radiates around them, except Widow knows, when she goes back to her room, she spends a lot of time sitting and staring into the distance.

One night she stands on the balcony and leans on the railing. With a sigh, she says, “I wonder what you think of all this, Widowmaker.”

Widowmaker. Not Amélie – Widowmaker.

The name echoes in her head, over and over again. She takes her gun out. Focuses her scope on Angela Ziegler’s head. And as her finger touches the trigger, Mercy turns her gaze straight into Widow’s scope and seems to stare right into her soul.

Mercy knows she’s there.

Mercy knew she was listening. _I wonder what you think of all this, Widowmaker._ It wasn’t a question meant to be lost to the darkness.

“Go ahead,” Mercy says, and the words seem so loud in the darkness, despite their distance. “Take the shot.”

Widow’s hands shake. Her scope hovers around Mercy’s head. She tries to will her trigger finger to press down.

She doesn’t take the shot.

Mercy laughs to herself, but it doesn’t seem mean. She turns her head to the skies and says, “Your boss is going to be mad.”

“My boss can go fuck herself,” says Widow, and she knows Mercy hears her because she looks startled, and then slowly, sharply, she smiles.

Widow flees, letting the night swallow her whole.

*

“My boss can go fuck herself?” echoes Adaline. “Does your conditioning need refreshing, Amélie? Who do you think you are, precisely?”

“Not my name,” says Widow. “My name is Widowmaker.”

She remembers it on Mercy’s lips – _Widowmaker, Widowmaker._

_I wonder what you think of all this, Widowmaker._

If Widow could have replied, she’d probably say, “I try not to think about it at all.”

That night, Adaline takes her to the basement of the Talon headquarters and leaves her in a cell all night. She doesn’t give her any food or drink. Widow contemplates death there, wonders what it would be like. She thinks it might be nice.

In the early hours of the morning, they take her for reconditioning. But her favourite doctor is there – a warm, smiling woman named Agatha. Widow knows she’s not there because she wants to be.

Agatha makes eye contact with Widow when she walks in. Widow’s bloody from Adaline’s beatings, pale and sickly-looking.

“I know,” she says to the guards. “I’ve got it. I’ve done this a million times before.”

Agatha waits for the door to close. When it does, she closes her eyes, looking pained.

“What did you do?” she asks, gentle, coaxing.

“I defied her,” says Widow. “I wouldn’t kill the healer.”

“If they think I’ve reconditioned you, and you still defy them,” says Agatha. “They will believe you’re broken, no longer useful. You know what will happen, then.”

Perhaps not death, not at first. Torture, for months, to see if they can break her properly. More reconditioning. Then they might not even kill her. They might put her in the ice. Wake her up when they think they can break her properly.

“I know,” says Widow.

Agatha takes a long look at her and nods. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Not at all.”

*

They put her back in the cell, afterwards. In the morning, Adaline’s there. She lets Widow out and says, “You are going to kill Angela Ziegler.”

“Yes,” says Widow. “Of course.”

*

She follows Mercy again. This time, she gets closer. She sits a table away from her at restaurants. She hangs from the nearest tree when they’re training. It’s dangerous. Overwatch’s agents could notice her at any time. One time, she thinks the one named Lucio looks right at her, but then he just looks away with a laugh.

In the end, it’s Mercy that comes to her.

She had been watching their training, trying to find a good angle. And there had been many – she could have taken out not just Mercy, but also one of the others, the young Korean girl or perhaps the huge Russian woman.

She doesn’t kill any of them. Instead, she finds a nice, quiet perch atop the hill near their headquarters and looks up at the stars. It’s getting cold outside as the seasons turn towards winter, but she doesn’t really feel the cold. She doesn’t really feel anything at all, actually.

“That can’t be very comfortable,” says Mercy, and Widow tries not to jolt like it surprised her, even though she hadn’t even heard the woman coming.

“It’s alright,” says Widow, and the healer actually has the nerve to sit down next to her. Widow looks at her. “You do know,” she says, “that I am literally here to kill you, Angela Ziegler.”

Mercy laughs. “You can just call me Mercy, don’t worry. And I do know that, but I also know that you haven’t done it yet.” She shrugs. “Winston thought this would be too dangerous. So try not to prove him right.”

Widow laughs out of surprise at the sheer lack of fear in Mercy. “You are very strange, Mercy.”

“Are you going to tell me why you seem to hate your boss so much? I’ve never heard anything about animosity between Widowmaker and Talon’s leader.”

“Not their leader,” says Widow, and the honesty is raw and painful and so freeing all at once. She hesitates. “You know that Amélie had sisters.”

Mercy doesn’t question the use of _Amélie_ as a different person. “Yes. Five.” Mercy seems confused. “Only one alive, though.”

Not quite answering the question, Widow asks, “Have you ever been related to somebody you hated so much you wanted to kill them, Mercy?”

Mercy doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“Now imagine that,” says Widow, “except she’s the last piece of your old life you have left.”

Mercy looks at her for a very, very long time. Finally, her brows crease and there’s something devastating in her eyes. Pity, maybe. “Oh, Widow,” says Mercy. “She’s not the only piece of your old life you have left.”

Mercy pulls a locket out from under her shirt and opens it. Inside is a tiny photo of Angela and Amélie, smiling in front of some monument. The locket is a heart. Widow doesn’t know what to think of it.

“I can’t deal with this,” says Widow, and she gets up, and runs, and she doesn’t stop running for a very, very long time.

*

Widow doesn’t go back to Talon. She still has the bruises and scars from her last mistake.

Instead, she goes to France.

The chateau is dusty and abandoned. It’s been years since she’s been here. The place seems like a ghost house. Her parents’ ornaments still decorate the house, the walls lined with classic paintings.

“You didn’t think you could hide from me here, did you?” asks Adaline, and she’s been there the whole time.

Widow doesn’t turn around. Her hands clench at her sides. They itch to grab her gun. “This is my house. Mother left it to me.”

“Mother was wrong,” spits Adaline. “What do you care about family tradition, anyway? You think I didn’t hear what you said to that whore?”

“Mercy,” says Widow, carefully, “is not a whore. She is kinder to me than you are.”

Widow turns, then, and that’s her mistake. Adaline is so close to her face that Widow can feel her breath, and she says, “You don’t deserve kindness. You need somebody to be harsh with you, Amélie.”

“My name isn’t Amélie,” says Widow, and it sounds like a mantra by this point.

“Yes, it is,” says Adaline. “I may have gotten them to kidnap you, brainwash you, _ruin_ you, but you’ll always be Amélie, my little sister, helpless, _useless._ ”

Widow’s heart freezes in her chest. “ _You_ organised that? _You_ killed me – killed _her_?”

“I made you better, Amélie,” says Adaline. “You were rotting, Amélie, with that man, being so good and precious and wonderful. You need waking up. Overwatch was making you stagnate. You needed blood on your hands. Don’t you see now? This is the answer. I did you a favour.”

“You _killed her,_ ” Widow says, angry now. She feels a strange overprotectiveness for the girl she used to be.

“I _remade_ her.”

Widow goes for her gun and Adaline deals a heavy punch straight to her face. Widow rolls away. Adaline’s eyes are lit up with fury. “Were you going to try to kill me, Amélie?”

Part of Widow wants to say no, no, reassure that it’s fine, she was confused, she’ll be better now. She’ll be nice. But there’s another part of her, one that possesses her to look Adaline in the eyes and say, “Yes, I’ve wished for your death since I met you again four years ago, you fucking bitch.”

Adaline looks taken aback. She hadn’t expected this. This didn’t conform to her plans.

But then she’s moving, advancing on Widow, a knife in her hand. She must be trying to take Widow by surprise. But nothing ever takes Widow by surprise.

Widow hooks herself backwards, upwards, hanging off the chandelier in the ceiling. She shoots a bullet straight through Adaline’s head.

Adaline’s eyes go wide, betrayed, and then she drops like a load of bricks, collapsing to the cold wooden floor. Widow looks at her pale, unmoving body, and searches herself for remorse.

She finds none. She leaves the body on the ground and burns down the house – her sister, her parents’ belongings, and her cold dead heart inside.

She sets off for London.

*

Mercy is waiting for her when she arrives. So, funnily enough, is an entire army of Overwatch guards. Widow doesn’t fight and lets them take her into custody. She doesn’t even get to say hello to Mercy. She thinks, judging by the look of devastation and guilt on Mercy’s face, she feels the same.

“You killed her,” says the woman. She’s dressed in plain clothes, with a lab coat over the top. She says she’s a psychologist, but the gun at her waist makes Widow think otherwise.

“You killed your own sister,” she says.

“I have said it several times,” Widow drawls. “Are you stupid? Do you need me to repeat it?”

“You’re not exactly helping your case.”

“My case about what? Being a murderer? Sure, you can jail me, if that’s what you want,” says Widow, “but I’ll be more useful to you as a soldier. I killed Talon’s second-in-command, didn’t I?”

“I just can’t understand it,” says the woman. “You’ve been with Talon for five years. You were brainwashed. Why would you change your mind now? Why would it possess you to kill your own sister?”

“I hated my sister,” says Widow. “But as for Talon, my brainwashing began to wear off. With the help of a friend.” She thinks of Agatha.

“So what you’re saying is you’re turning back into Amélie.”

“No,” says Widow, the word harsh like a knife. “I will never be Amélie again. My name is Widowmaker. I am a killer. I have done lots of terrible things. But I’m the best sniper in the world. I don’t miss. I’m willing to attempt to be good for you.”

“Why?”

_Because of Mercy. Because I want to be good like her._

“Why not?” says Widow, and she just laughs.

*

“House arrest,” says Widow, and it’s amusing to her. “Well. Room arrest, I suppose.”

“Do you think it’s a joke?” Mercy asks. “They could have you imprisoned for life, if they wanted. You’re lucky Winston sees something in you.”

“Winston is the only one who sees something in me, hm?”

Mercy looks away.

“I don’t think it’s a joke. I want to join you.” She tilts her head. “I do think it’s a joke that they think they can keep me here. I could kill them all if I wanted to, right now. But I won’t.”

“Because of me,” says Mercy. “That’s it, isn’t it? You said you want to join _me._ Not Overwatch. Me.”

Widow says, “Maybe I just want to try being good.”

“What do you see in me that you like so much? That stopped you killing me? That brought you here?”

Widow knows that before Amélie was Widow, Amélie loved Angela. She loved her slowly, gently, and definitely not in a way a married woman should. Nothing had ever happened, but that love still burns inside her like sparks from a burning fire.

“Hope,” says Widow, when what she really means is _love._

Mercy kisses her then, angry, sharp, desperate, and Widow kisses her back. It’s not a nice kiss – Mercy tastes _furious,_ but Widow welcomes it, lets her in. “I’m not as good as you think I am,” Mercy says, harsh.

“Oh, darling,” says Widow. “I hope so.”

**Author's Note:**

> warnings for off-screen torture, psychological and physical abuse, and suicidal ideation.


End file.
